Too Far
by ThreeInOne
Summary: Takes place during "Darkest Hour", so spoilers. He'd been pushed too far and done the unthinkable. Now he had to make things right, no matter the cost. Rated T for character death. Don't read if you haven't seen the super epic cliffhanger season finale.


**((Okay, so I've been sick lately, and it might take me some time to update my stories. Sorry. I'll do the best I can but I'll make no promises. I just watched the Season Two finale and my mind is still trying to wrap around it. Then I decided to write this. It's a bit short but I'm liking it.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers.))**

**TOO FAR**

It was a dark hour for the Autobots, or so it seemed. Optimus stood at the front of his troops, the kids clutched firmly in their grasps in the pods. They were surrounded by Vehicons, weapons locked on them. And energy was flooding out of the Omega Lock, pouring through the Space Bridge onto Earth.

"So, what should I call my new planet?" Megatron was saying, almost casually. "New Kaon? Or perhaps Gilded Earth?" Optimus's optics widened. The planet would be cyberformed, and all the humans killed. 7 billion lives, all dust. Optimus's words to Agent Fowler rang in his audios: "You may be able to condone wide-spread human casualties, Agent Fowler, but I cannot." The Omega Lock was Cybertron's savior and Earth's destroyer. They'd worked so hard to reach this point, to finally have a chance to return home. But was it worth it?

And, worse, the Decepticons were laughing over it. Laughing about it like it was a sick joke. Like they were little kids frying ants with the sun and a magnifying glass.

Optimus's vision filled with red and a normally foreign emotion bubbled up: rage. Hatred. Fury. Rage at Megatron, at the Decepticons, at everything. He couldn't stand it.

Optimus moved like a lunging predator, hand morphing into a blade. He struck the three Vehicons before him, before he darted over to tear the Star Saber out of the ground, it's blade lighting up with a familiar glow. His swing sent an arch of blue energy cascading into several other drones, sending them reeling. He sprinted forward, the Star Saber clashing with the Dark Star Saber in a symphony of ringing metal. Optimus pulled back and swung down with all his might. Megatron's stolen arm was cleaved from his shoulder in a shower of sparks. Optimus continued past him, dentas clenched behind his battle mask as he deflected a missile from Starscream. His mind was fogged, vision hazed. He had to make it stop, to end it. For Primus's sake, he couldn't let them die, he had to-

The Star Saber sliced the Omega Lock in half like a knife through hot butter. An explosion knocked Optimus back and he heard someone call his name.

When his vision cleared, he saw the fiery landscape, the block of scrap metal that had once been the only thing that could've saved their planet.

_What have I done? _Optimus thought. He saw the other Autobots' shocked expressions, all asking the same question: _Why?_

"Ratchet," Optimus said hoarsely, "we need a Space Bridge."

~.~.~.~.~.

It had all happened so fast. Optimus was gratified that the others had escaped, that they would all be alright. Ratchet lingered in front of the open Space Bridge, his look a mixture of pain and worry and fear.

"I," he started, voice cracking, "I never imagined it would end like this." Ratchet stepped through the portal and Optimus stared after him, expression regretful.

"Neither did I, old friend," Optimus whispered, tone soft. He reached for the Star Saber, whipping it off his back, the hilt melding into his hand. Alarms were blaring, alerting him to a massive power surge right above. He lifted the Star Saber, energy convalescing off of it.

_I'm so sorry, _he thought. _Ratchet, my Autobots…forgive me._

Megatron had pushed him to his end. He'd gone too far and he'd done the unthinkable. And he had to make things right.

Optimus brought the Saber down and his world exploded in fire.

**((Yeah, it wouldn't be Transformers if Optimus didn't die. Read and review folks.))**


End file.
